


Creaking Beams

by kahootqueen69



Series: Terrortober 2020 [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Canon Compliant, Light Angst, M/M, midnight thoughts, terrortober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahootqueen69/pseuds/kahootqueen69
Summary: At night, in their tent, Francis Crozier has no other obligations than his thoughts.Terrortober 2020 Day 3:Ship
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Series: Terrortober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956325
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Creaking Beams

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short one, but I hope it's up to my usual standards anyway despite its length!

“Friend, mother, lover; all the things they say a ship is to a captain, and they miss the only thing that matters,” he’d said to Thomas. “Confessor.”

_Confessor._

The word kept echoing around in his head, like a ball endlessly bouncing off the walls of a tiny room, taking up all the space and not leaving any for more pressing matters, such as the long trek ahead, or the men’s morale, or the rapidly increasing consequences of the lead poisoning, or James’ declining health, or… or—

Francis turned his head, peering into the dark towards the rough outline of James’ sleeping form in their sack, his chest rising and falling with each wheezing, creaking breath. He sounded like _Terror_ when she was at her tipping point, or like _Erebus_ when her beams threatened to snap.

James had tried to hide it from him, of course, but he’d found out anyway. The hairline, first, then the eye, and then… then the wounds. He’d done a remarkable job of it, Francis had to admit. He only wished James had told him.

_Confessor._

He knew he’d not exactly been to James as what _Terror_ had been to him. Someone to trust, to place your faith in, to tell your secrets to and know they’ll keep them and not judge you for it; someone to count on. Though, he supposed, he’d failed at that last bit as _Terror_ had failed him: he wasn’t a man to count on — likely to break in the end, when it came down to it.

Another wheezing breath from James; another beam creaking under the pressure.

A body was much like a ship, he thought, and the heart was its captain. When the heart was at its peak, the body was at its best, and only so much could be done for a ship with a failing captain, or no captain at all.

Right now, the captain of James’ ship was struggling. Francis felt it through the stuttering of James’ breathing, pressed up against each other as they were. He wanted to reach out, take some of the weight, ease the struggle; share his captain’s duties.

_Confessor._

He’d grown closer to James than he’d ever cared — or dared, which was the better word, now — to imagine. He supposed, when it came down to it, James had replaced _Terror_ as his confessor; his rock — his will to live.

He only hoped he could be the same to James.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/kahootqueen69) :)


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